


We're Too Old For This

by Saoirse_Laochra



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfam Week 2018, Booby Traps, Gen, Humor, Mild Language, One Shot, bfw 2018, prompt: trapped
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 14:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15488190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saoirse_Laochra/pseuds/Saoirse_Laochra
Summary: Seriously? This sort of thing was bad enough when they were still Robin, dressed in the green spandex shorts -now it was just embarrassing.Or: Nightwing and Red Hood stumble into a trap left by the Riddler. Red Robin and Robin will never let them live this down.Day 2 of BatFam Week 2018: Trapped





	We're Too Old For This

“You’ve gotta be freakin’ kiddin’ me.”

Dick sat up slowly, his brother’s voice yanking him back to consciousness, his head pounding, the domino mask over his eyes feeling so tight that he thought his eyes might explode. It took a moment for his vision to clear enough that he could actually get a good look at his surroundings.

“Nightwing, you okay?”

Jason was in a cage dangling from a chain on the ceiling, maybe fifteen feet away from him. A quick look down confirmed that Dick was in a similar situation, and he groaned as he spotted the large vat of what looked like water beneath them.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What happened?” He asked, pulling himself into a sitting position, his hands traveling to the various pockets in his suit on their own accord; he wasn’t shocked when he found that they were all empty, his lockpicks, grappling gun, escrima sticks, and other tools all missing.

“Dunno,” Jason said, his voice agitated as he shifted around, coming up to his knees cautiously; the cage was too small for either of them to actually stand up in, and only wide enough for them to move a few inches in either direction. “Last thing I remember I was crashin’ a warehouse after I heard a woman screamin’. You?”

Dick struggled to remember, bright flashes of color dancing across his vision despite his closed eyes, before he gave up, shrugging ruefully. “I’ve got nothing.”

“Good evening, members of the Bat Family! And welcome to tonight’s show!”

“Oh, c’mon!” Jason exclaimed angrily, leaning forward a bit. “You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me! I swear to Christ, Riddler, I’m gonna kick your ass nine ways from Sunday when I get outta here! This wasn’t funny when I was thirteen, and it sure as hell ain’t funny now!”

While Dick remained quiet, internally he echoed the sentiment; unlike most of the villains they dealt with a routine basis, Riddler typically was more annoying than threatening. His constant traps -while lethal -were escapable; as Bruce had once put it, the guy’s sense of fair play is what did him in; he had to always give his victims the opportunity to free themselves, and most times, most people he captured did manage to escape. Or if they couldn’t escape, if they were merely pawns in something larger, Riddler made sure that whoever was coming to rescue them had the chance to save them.

Hell, each of the Robins -him, Jason, Tim, and even Damian once -had been captured by the Riddler before. Typically they freed themselves fairly easily, or Bruce got there in plenty of time to save them before whatever ‘evil’ demise Riddler had planned was enacted.

So, at least to the Robins, Riddler was something of a joke; a punchline almost. Dangerous, definitely, but no more so than the average gangster they fought on the street.

“Ah, ah, ah, manners, Red Hood,” Nigma said, his voice sing-song through the grainy, tinny speakers in the room. “Now, for the game: you have one hour to free yourselves. Ever five minutes, the cages you’re in will drop one foot. The pool of water below you -which is filled with ice, as you can see -is six foot deep. At sixty minutes, your heads will be completely submerged, and you will drown -presuming that the cold doesn’t kill you first. Have fun!”

“Hey, hey, hey! Wait a minute!” Dick called out, hoping Riddler was still listening. After about twenty seconds, the man spoke again.

“Yes?”

“That’s it? No ‘Riddle me this, here’s how you get out’? No ‘Batman has to figure out the clues and rescue you’? No ‘the tools you need are in the water’, or ‘glued to the underside of the cage’? Just ‘freeze or drown in an hour, have fun’? Seriously?”

“You’re old enough that you can figure it out.” Despite the poor quality of the speakers, the sneer came through loud and clear. “As Red Hood said, you’re no longer children. You shouldn’t need any extra help.”

The speakers went quiet again, the tinny echo stopping, as Dick glared over at Jason.

“Thanks, asshole.”

“Whatever.” Jason was quiet for a minute, and Dick looked over to see him checking through his pockets, cursing under his breath as he came up empty. “So… plan?”

“How much can you move?”

“Not enough to get this swingin’ to reach you,” Jason said angrily. “Not hunched over like this.”

“Great. At least he didn’t strip us to our skivvies. That’s something, I guess.”

“Easy for you to say, Mr. Acrobat,” Jason grumbled, shifting around uncomfortably. “I swear he made these for the smaller two. I can feel the arthritis kickin’ in.” There was a shuddering noise, and both cages dropped, earning a grunt from Jason as his head banged off the top of the metal. “Jesus, man, what the hell?! That wasn’t five minutes! Like… three and a half at most!”

“Quit antagonizing him!” Dick snapped. “C’mon, we gotta get outta here. What do you got?”

“I already told you, he emptied my freaking pockets. I’ve got nothin’ other than my clothes, as you so helpfully pointed out.”

“Alright. Alright, give me a minute; let me think.” Dick tried to maneuver himself around a bit, trying to see the top of Jason’s cage. “Alright, it looks like it’s welded together.”

“Damn. I was hoping for bolts.”

“Yeah, but the bars are thick enough, there’s gotta be a center support inside. Think you can get an angle to kick at it?”

“Me? Why don’t you do it, Mr. Acrobat?”

“Because I haven’t spent my time working to look a steroid-junkie. You’ve got a lot more muscle to put behind it.”

Jason frowned for a minute, and Dick could see him trying to decide whether to take the backhanded compliment, or complain, before he grunted. “Fair enough.”

Dick watched as he scooted around, until his upper back and shoulders were braced against one side of the cage, and he lashed out with his heavy boots. The first few kicks did nothing, but on the fourth one, Dick saw the bar begin to bend at the top.

“That’s it! You’re doing it!”

“One… Problem… With… All this,” Jason grunted in-between kicks.

“What?”

“This is… Gonna take… Quite a few… More...”

“What, getting tired already?”

“Shut up. No. I mean… I don’t know… If we’ll… have enough… _time_. I’m too… big to fit… through just… one bar.”

As he finished, the cages shuddered, before dropping again.

“Guess you better hurry then.”

 

* * *

 

An hour later, wet and freezing, Jason and Dick gathered up their gear -helpfully set on a table by the entrance -trying not to shiver as they began the tedious task of putting everything back where it belonged.

“Hey, Dick?”

“What?”

“We never speak of this to the runts.”

“Agreed,” Dick said through shivering teeth, the thought of the two younger boys finding out about this little… mishap… almost enough to make him groan. “C’mon; let’s get outta here.”

They exited the warehouse building…

Only to be greeted by clapping.

Tim, Damian, Steph, and Cass all sat perched on the various building materials scattered around the one-time parking lot, in various states of laughter and cheering.


End file.
